Quit Bein' Ugly (The Southern Gentleman 3)

“Speaking of the gym…” Camryn trailed off when a loud thump had us both turning toward where Raleigh had gone.

“What…”

“I’m going to fucking kill you!” Raleigh screamed.

We were both running, but I put my hand on Camryn’s chest when she would’ve gone outside.

“No,” I said. “You can’t go out there. You’re like, super pregnant. Stay.”

I didn’t bother to wait to make sure she stayed. I only ran.

When I got outside, it was to find a man wrestling with Raleigh on the ground.

I didn’t even think. I just reacted.

One second I was on the threshold of my front door, and the next I was launching myself at the man that was hurting my friend.

“Let her go, motherfucker!” I cried out.

Then I hit him, my body slamming into his so hard that I knocked him away from Raleigh.

One second, we were on the porch, and the next we hit the ground with Raleigh’s attacker on the bottom. He hit the ground with a resounding thud, and had the breath knocked out of him.

And, since the gym had a couple of martial arts classes that I attended on a regular basis once a month, when the man did finally decide to move, I positioned myself with him in a classic headlock that I had learned. My thighs were thoroughly locked around his stupid face just like we had practiced.

Then I squeezed for all I was worth.

“Oh my God!” I heard someone say.

It was a man. Not a woman.

The cops that were in the car, maybe? I didn’t know.

What I did know was that the man that I was now squeezing with my thighs was using his hands desperately trying to pry himself out of my thigh lock, but I wouldn’t let him.

I squeezed him harder with my thighs, his head feeling like a squishy watermelon.

“You can let him go,” an authoritative male voice said above me.

I didn’t let go.

He was twitching less now.

“Ma’am,” I heard.

“Oh, God,” I heard Raleigh’s voice say. “He’s turning purple. Pop him like a watermelon, Carmichael!”

Okay, so there was this challenge one day where a lot of the CrossFit girls at the gym got those personal watermelons and tried to crack them open using their thighs. Thinking it would be hilarious, I did it, and now everyone teased me about it.

Apparently, Raleigh was now getting in on the action.

“Ma’am,” I heard said again.

Peters, the policeman that had been stationed in the front of the house bellowed. “Is that… whoa. Go, girl. Squeeze his head like that watermelon you did last summer. Make sure that it doesn’t get all over you when it pops, though. That’d be gross.”

“Dude, is that Alfie?” I heard Camryn say then. “What the hell was he doing attacking you?”

That’s when I finally let go.

But not because it was Alfie, because he’d finally stopped fighting me.

He went limp, and I chose to decide that it was enough.

I fell backward and did a shoulder roll to get me facing forward, then got to my feet and backed away a few feet.

That was when I hit a solid wall of muscle.

I looked up to find Croft standing behind me.

CHAPTER 15

I’m sorry, it’s just that I literally don’t give a fuck.

-Croft’s secret thoughts

CROFT

“What are you doing here?” Flint asked as he walked into the class about halfway through.

“I got bored, your sister was sleeping her ass off because she thought it would be a great idea to wake up at two and read until five this morning. So, I decided to come, but made sure to leave a police presence outside the house before I did. Did you look into that guy I told you to?” I asked, watching as one of the new gym members performed her first successful snatch.

“Yes,” he said. “I was waiting to hear back. Should be any…” His phone rang, and he grinned. “Speaking of the devil. Talk to me.”

I walked away from him for a few moments while he spoke, mostly because I saw a man performing a lift that would hurt him if he didn’t use the correct form. When I got back, it was to find Flint’s eyes narrowed. “I want him found and brought in. He broke into my sister’s house.”

Just then he pulled his phone away from his face and stared at the screen. “I gotta call you back. Peters is calling me.”

With that, he hung up with whoever it’d been and answered the second call. “Peters? Oh shit. Yeah, I’ll be there.”

He looked at me, then turned to look at the gym and the class.

“Schultz!” he called.

Schultz stopped his lift mid-swing and looked at us.

“Can you teach the rest of the class then lock up?” Flint asked.

My heart started to pound.

Because somehow, I knew that his sister and my woman were somehow to blame for this.

“Yes,” Schultz answered. “Will do.”